Helen
Flash Fiction! The black Jag pulled up to the curb and the Hyundai followed. The sun shone and made a brilliant glare of both vehicles. Charlie Finkeberger got out of her Jag and quickly walked around to help the young couple out of the Hyundai. The man mowing the lawn next door looked at the aging real estate agent. She definitely paid a lot for that airbrushing , he thought, after comparing the visage now in front of him with the one captured in the FOR-SALE sign on the curb. He waved at Charlie and she waved back. “New prospects, huh?” He said, shutting the mower off. Charlie smiled contemptuously. She could swear that old bastard just loved every minute of her not selling this god-forsaken house. It was like he waited for her to show up. Every time. “No, Mr. Kramer,” she straightened her dress and looked at him with a polite smile. “They’re buyers. These nice young people are going to be your new neighbors...